


Wanna Be Yours

by iloveyoudie



Series: Sure would be a bummer if he got shot and died... [20]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Modern Era, Porn with Feelings, Promises, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveyoudie/pseuds/iloveyoudie
Summary: For some couples sex was unnecessary, negligible, a treat or something to be scheduled. For Box and Fancy it was a requirement.
Relationships: Ronnie Box/George Fancy
Series: Sure would be a bummer if he got shot and died... [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695859
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	Wanna Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> some of yall said there needed to be more porn, and obviously I was already working on that, so...

It didn’t take much for George and Ronnie to end up all over one another. In this case, a pretty outrageous Netflix show had failed at holding either of their interest past the first episode. By the time the ‘Continue watching?’ popped up, they were fully locked in a rough and hungry kiss and George was in the process of crawling his way into Ronnie’s lap. His hand moved along his partner’s cheek, around behind his head to grip into his hair and his legs spread wide to straddle his hips. Box’s hands were already there, one sliding around George’s waist to encircle him, to cup his arse and pull him close, and then a second later push up under his shirt to touch his skin.

“Stupid...” George grumbled lightly around where Ronnie’s lip was tugged between his teeth. He hissed, “...clothes.”

George released his hands from Box’s hair and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt to start to tug it off. Ronnie gave assistance, taking the lead to tug the cotton up over his head, but instead of pulling it off, he let out a low chuckle and trapped George’s head and arms momentarily in the fabric. He pulled it taut to force George’s body to bend backwards. George laughed and protested, squirmed in his fabric prison until Box’s face dipped to his chest, to his nipples which he pulled between his lips and flicked his tongue over. George was writhing and moaning his name between stuttered gasping breaths before Ron finally freed him and pulled the shirt away to toss aside.

His shirt was off next with no fuss or horseplay and they came back together in a battle of kisses and hungry gripping hands, as both of them rolled their hips together in a way that would have only one inevitable outcome.

For some couples sex was unnecessary, negligible, a treat or something to be scheduled. For Box and Fancy it was a requirement. Often. Unexpectedly sometimes. Improvised. It was a compulsion, an obsession, and absolute bliss. A few spare unoccupied minutes was all it took for them to lose interest in everything else and focus on each other instead. _They_ were one of their favourite activities.

George scratched pink lines down Ronnie’s chest and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth again. He rolled his hips downward and groaned as their cocks rocked together within the confines of the old threadbare joggers they’d both thrown on after work. Box growled as he pulled his lip free and he once more lowered his head to George’s neck, stretched and bared for him. Ronnie had learned quickly just how pliant and flexible George could be, and more and more they exploited it to their mutual pleasure. George bent backwards eagerly in his arms once again, as lips and teeth and tongue worked their way greedily across his body.

And then a phone rang. There was a glaring burst of default ringtone and a rattle from the table beside the sofa.

Box’s body shot upwards immediately in response, “Fuck!”

He looked like a deer in the headlights and bobbled a moment as he did his best to keep grip on George who was still leaning back and held on only with the clamp of his knees around Ronnie’s hips and one of Box’s looped arms.

“Ignore it..” George hummed with lazy hooded eyes. His hand went into his partner’s hair and he tried to urge him to get those lips back on his body, back creeping towards his waistband. He was already trying to hook his ankles behind Ronnie’s back for extra leverage, especially as he had stayed arched and bent, but Ronnie was already reaching for the phone and so George frowned and curled himself upright once more. He wasn’t one to give up so easily though. He scooted his hips back flush to Ronnie’s and dipped his head to the man’s neck on the opposite side as the phone.

“S’work..” Ronnie had his phone in hand when George’s lips moved up his neck and cheek and around to his mouth for another kiss. He was trying to distract him, derail him, and it seemed to be working. Box’s thumb paused before he swiped to answer, content for the moment to have his tongue sucked in a way that shot straight to his cock and made him groan.

“S’Thursday!” He hissed as he broke away finally, and before George could steal his attention again, his thumb pulled across the screen and he put it to his ear. It was time for DI voice, “ _Box_. Yeah. A’right, Fred?”

George didn’t exactly stop. He continued to roll his hips and his body moved in a sinewy wave that was still held in the curl of one of Box’s arms. He continued to run his hands along his chest, to brush his lips over his cheeks and across his jaw. George ignored the phone call completely, even as Ronnie tried to shoo him away.

Ron tried desperately to make himself unavailable. He dropped his head down in a different angle and he ran a hand through his hair to brush George’s lips away, but George just moved around him and chased the motions with his mouth and softly nuzzled into the bare stretches of his neck and jaw and even rubbed his face into Ronnie’s dishevelled hair.

“Yeah, I heard -” Ronnie tilted his face away again and tried to stretch his head up from George’s continually drifting lips but they only clamped onto the side of his neck. A sudden pinch of teeth and blood stirring suction at the base of his throat sent an uncontrollable shiver through him, “ _\- fucking hell._ ”

Thursday’s distinctive voice could be heard on the other end of the line asking if everything was alright.

George grinned in triumph.

Box’s jaw flexed and he gave him a sharp look as he pulled his head back again, “Can’t find a bloody pen is all. Swore I had one here. Let me write this down.”

Thursday’s voice piped back up, content to continue whatever he’d been saying, and George pressed his face into the crook of Box’s neck again. He ran his hands over his chest, nuzzled into him, kissed feather light across his skin, up behind his ear and then down across his collarbone. Box continued to do his best to stay on task even as George’s thumbs rubbed and plucked idly over his nipples.

“Yep, Robertson’s. Got it. Yeah, I’ll-”

George’s hands moved further, down Ronnie’s belly until he could snap at his waistband. His fingers ghosted over the dark hair covering his stomach, scratched across his navel, a single finger scratched slowly over the outline of his cock and finally, having not yet succeeded to pull Box from his call, pushed past the waistband to wrap around his half-hard cock and squeeze.

“F- _fucking.._ ”

Thursday said something again and Box gathered himself slightly, “Just these bloody- shite- pens. Yah..” and more hurriedly, “Robertson’s. The 28th. Be reasonable. Got it. Listen, Fred, I’ve got-”

He looked at George who narrowed his eyes, squeezed again and stroked him once like a threat. His expression was demanding and irresistible, a cheeky and satisfied grin, and whatever the threat was, it was absolutely working.

Box bit back any sound he could have made, “-something reheating and I think it might be torched to shit in a minute.”

George grinned and stroked him again and this time his hand stopped at the head and pressed a thumb across the oozing tip until Box had to swallow another sound.

“Yeah- _huh_. Cheers.”

His phone was hung up like a flash and flung across the room at such speed that he probably could have put it through a wall if he hadn’t aimed at a chair cushion.

“You’re a bloody demon,” Box growled as he lunged to catch George in a demanding kiss.

George drew back in a tease and let go of him and extracted his hand with a bubbling laugh. He threw his arms around Ronnie’s neck instead, “What’d he want?”

“Nothing. You were right. Should have ignored it,” Box gripped George's ass to assist in rolling their bodies together again. They had no plans and a whole night ahead of them. He was definitely not answering any more phone calls. George’s teasing couldn’t go unanswered.

“Tell me anyway,” George responded eagerly. He once more rolled his hips against Ronnie, his body writhing serpentine under the man’s hands, and their mutual arousal flared again with the infuriating rutting and the friction of the layers of fabric keeping them apart.

Ronnie spoke between kisses and heavy breaths as their bodies moved, “One of the lads is getting married in a month,” there was a pause of ‘ _hngh, ah, fuck George’_ as George ground against him, practically riding him while still clothed. His hands fully gripped George’s ass and squeezed, “Wants me to - send somethin- from the-” He let go long enough to vaguely gesture.

“S’nice of you,” George lifted himself up on his knees to sink his hands into Ronnie’s hair again and grab, “Love me a good wedding..”

Box’s face dropped once more to ravage his chest. He started to mark him up a bit, lovebites and suck marks to mark his trail over George’s pale flesh. Soon he’d found his nipples again, this time rougher, until they were pebbled and raw and he could once more continue the journey down to his waistband.

“Take me to bed,” George moaned softly.

“Yea,” Box murmured as his mouth moved over the planes of George’s ribs. He nipped at the soft skin where he bent, just under the last rib.

George gasped, “Fuck me silly, babe.”

Box chuckled low and deep, “Yea.”

George continued his demands without stopping, “Mark me up and make me yours.”

Box’s eyes flashed up and he grinned with a lot of teeth, “Fuck yea.”

George shivered and gripped on him, moaning uncontrollably, “Forever.”

“Mmm,” Box growl-laughed, “love that plan.”

George tugged his hair until Box met his eyes again. He licked his lips and searched his face between gentle panting desperation. Sometimes it was hard to tell when he was being serious or when he was swept up in the moment and now was one of those times, “Til death do us part.”

Box smirked and leaned upwards as he steered George up enough to steal a kiss, “Yea, alright.”

And then he bent back down to press his face into the skin at George’s navel.

“Really?” George tightened his hands in Ronnie’s hair and yanked his head back to meet his eyes again.

Box grunted from the slight pain but enjoyed it, “Whatever you want, love. Just let’s get through the other bits first. You _really_ test sometimes, George.”

That’s when George straightened, pulled Ronnie into a searing kiss, and finally tore himself away. He practically left Ron grasping at the air. By the time he was in the bedroom he’d peeled out of his bottoms and dove onto the mattress with a weird skidding spin that kicked most of the sheets onto the floor and ended with George upside down on his back with his head hanging over the edge of the foot of the bed. He stroked himself lazily as he watched Ronnie advance on him down the hall like an apex predator. He watched the man peel out of his own tented joggers, watched him grip himself with a strong stroking fist, watched his body move in that sexy swagger until he got close enough that George could reach for him.

He pressed his face to Box’s hip and nipped the delicious dip of his hip bone, tasted over the vee of muscle of his abdomen, and then finally gripped his cock and guided it between his lips while he was still upside-down.

Ronnie groaned as he was enveloped and George was able to suck him deeper at the unusual angle. One of Ronnie’s large hands splayed over George’s chest while the other curled around the back of his head to hold him in place and help support him.

“Fuck, George,” Box’s head fell forward as George took him deeper, and he pushed with his hips for as much as he could get. The hand on George’s chest slid towards his long slender neck. He caressed it, curled his fingers around it, and George hummed and took him deeper until Ronnie could feel the throat moving and tensing and filling under his hand. He groaned again, louder, “Fucking hell, babe, you’re gorgeous.”

And George withdrew, slow and tight, and there was a satisfied gasp of breath from him as he pulled back all the way. He kept Ronnie’s cock in one hand, kept it close to his wet and glistening mouth, and he dragged his lips across the tip to let the moisture come away in a sticky string before he licked it clean slowly. He didn’t blink once, just kept Ronnie’s eyes on his own, sultry and satisfied.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Box wanted to kiss the look off his gloating little face, his wet pink lips, that wicked little tongue, but he also wanted more.

George didn’t let him finish his thought. He sucked him deep again, quick and tight, and wrapped an arm around Ronnie’s hip to pull him closer. He nuzzled greedily as he swallowed him down, until he could feel himself hitting a point of no return, until his nose was practically buried into Ronnie’s waist. George's throat tightened with the threat of a gag before he started to retreat and filled the absence with unbearable suction combined with devastatingly slow speed, and something molten shot through Ronnie, from root to tip, and he knew if there was much more of that than this wouldn’t be going on for as long as they both may like.

When George pulled back fully again, unclamped from Box’s cock with a lascivious satisfied wet sound, Ronnie moved himself back a step. His hand stayed on George’s throat but this time the firm pressure told George to stop so he could gather his wits.

“I do believe you requested to get fucked, my lad...” He slid his hand over George’s damp chin to ease his open mouth shut and brush his thumb across those enticing wet lips.

George sucked the thumb between his lips and dragged his teeth along the rough pad of it. He grinned again as he released him, “Yes, please.”

George had another sudden burst of speed as he rolled onto his belly and scrambled up the bed to lay in it properly. He fluffed the pillows and put them around and behind him in a comfortable way, like his own little throne, and just as he settled back Ronnie joined him with lube in hand.

They moved like they were magnetically drawn together. Ever since their first fling, George’s body was drawn to Ron’s. Even if they weren’t touching he leaned towards him, looked towards him, drifted towards him, and so when Ronnie finally joined him in bed, moved on his knees between George’s thighs, their bodies drew together like they were meant to. Their lips never missed, never fumbled. They found one another and melded and entangled, hips meeting and fingers clutching together and mouths locking, like a circuit closing to finally bring the pair of them to life.

Ronnie’s fingers were already slick when they slid down between George’s spread legs to brush over his entrance. He had one hand on George’s thigh, pressing it wide and spread into the mattress, firm and tight and offering no argument while George hooked the other over his shoulder. George enjoyed a bit of the rough, enjoyed Ronnie pushing him into position with no nonsense, enjoyed being held down until the grip left pink marks in his pale skin, until his joints and muscles strained and burned and he felt like he'd been wrung out from all angles.

“Fucked silly, was it?” Ronnie rumbled against George’s lips as one slick finger pushed deep inside of him. He paused to move it slowly, to shift and curl the digit with care until George’s eyes lost focus and fluttered shut and he shuddered under Box's hands with a soft whine.

When the finger withdrew, George let out a breath, flashed a cheeky grin and replied huskily, “ _Oh yes, daddy…_ ”

Ronnie quirked a brow and pursed his lips, “Oh he’s a funny little shit today, is he? We got jokes now?”

His hand flicked quickly, a grazing of just the tips of his fingers that slapped across the junction of George’s thigh and ass. George giggled. The next quick whack made a much more satisfying sound, a bit more contact, and to that George answered with a sound from deep inside him, a hissing moan that lowered seamlessly into a deeper laugh. He threw his arms around Ronnie’s neck again, “Mmmm, you love me.”

“And you love bustin my balls way too much..”

“Not enough, clearly,” George licked his lips before leaning to ghost their mouths together, “Seein as you still haven’t even-”

Box pushed into him again, two slick fingers, scissored and stretching, and George’s sentence was cut short with a shuddered exhale of, “- _fucking, fuck_.”

George was blushed from head to toe by the time Ronnie deemed him ready for more than just what that hand could give him. He may have dragged it out longer just to see George writhe, to see his body move so eagerly, to see his cock swell and flush and glisten damp with need against his thigh. He waited to see his chest heave, to have him beg with soft and desperate cries of, _‘Please, Ronnie.. Fuck me... You prick. You better- Please!’_ and he could lean in and kiss the words away, swallow them and spread him wider and tell him how perfect he was and how hot it was making him.

George was panting and his eyes were blown dark and wide when Ronnie finally released him and as soon as he could, he was shifting to flip over, to bury his face in a pillow and throw his arse in the air. He was needy now, greedy and impatient, and Ronnie allowed it at first. George turned half way, cast out one thigh and reached for a pillow, but he was intercepted. Ronnie grabbed him before he could finish the movement, one big hand shooting out to grab his thigh, another clamped on his hip, and he tossed George onto his back with a bit of playful force. It wasn’t a fully conscious action, just their natural dynamic, the way they played. George got sassy, gave him lip and teased him until he’d worked him up into a frenzy, and then Ronnie took over with power and dominance and all the pleasurable rewards that came along with it.

George bounced once with the force of the toss, and as he settled he hiked up his knees and spread his thighs wide, and looked at Ronnie through his lashes.

“Don’t you look at me like that, you bastard. C’mere,” Ronnie grabbed him by the thighs and tugged him again and George skidded on his back down from his pillowed throne and halfway down the mattress to be spread wide around Ronnie’s knees.

Ronnie leaned over him and kissed him as he lined his cock up and teased it in a slow drag against George’s body, “I wanna see your face..”

George’s eyes closed again and he tried to writhe back against him. He flung his legs around Ronnie’s waist and tried to press himself towards the tantalizing pressure.

“Wanna kiss you,” Box continued, and George moaned into his mouth as the kiss came with the simultaneous feeling of his body being finally filled. It was agonizingly slow, a delicate burn, pops and sparks up through his core, and when the kiss broke he took a severely needed gasp of breath.

“This what you want?” Ronnie’s eyes fell closed as the feeling of George’s tight body washed over him, prickles of heat rolling in waves across his skin with every bit of movement.

George sighed and threw an arm up into Ronnie’s hair to pull their foreheads together, “Yeah.”

Box curled a hand around George’s hip, and with a finally quick thrust, buried himself as deeply as he could inside. George let out a surprised cry and his fingers curled tighter in Ron’s hair and yanked.

“Like that?” Box growled. He was completely still now that they were joined together fully. It was like the calm before the storm, each of them held taut and waiting, preparing themselves but at the same time drawing it out. Anticipation.

George loved to take the chance to look at Ronnie, to have all of him, fit and fierce and fucking hot as hell, looming over him, growling in his ear, all of his attention on him. He fit him just right, he knew just the proper ways to get him going, and as he got used to the feeling of being breached, he slowly relaxed and was ready for more.

Ronnie knew that a relaxed George was a happy one. A reactive one. And he lived for it. George was sensitive and loud. He challenged him at any lapse of attention. Giving George what he wanted had become the thing that _he_ wanted too, because it meant that sex was always phenomenal.

It turned out that life with George Fancy was never, ever boring.

“Fuck yes,” George replied. His body loosened and expression got seductive and playful. With a smirk he clenched his body again, “Fuck me, baby.”

And Box groaned and shuddered. _Sexy little arsehole._

George laughed and leaned up towards him, but as Ronnie withdrew his hips slowly, he clamped his hand around the base of George’s throat and pushed him back flat into bedding. George laughed again, his throat bobbing under Box’s palm gleefully.

And then Ronnie started to move.

Some people were made for delicacy, for grace of movement and finesse. Some people were gentle and soft, careful and precise. Ronnie Box was not one of those people. He was created for strength and power. For impact. Driven for pleasure. There was no sizzling build of pace between them. He was a man who went from 0 to 100 with no stop in between.

When George asked for it, Ronnie was happy to give it.

They both knew just how right they fit together. Ronnie’s hands ended up clamped on George’s inner thighs to keep his knees butterflied in front of him. He gripped him tight and pulled him towards him with every thrust and George did his best to assist in the motion. Ronnie moved with power, with every bit of his body behind it, as words fell away and left them with the sound of their breathing and their skin coming together as they found their matched pace.

It didn’t take long for George’s tone to shift, for him to moan louder, for him to start reaching for Ron to scratch across his chest and grip onto his chest and shoulders. He liked to feel the other man’s muscle move under his skin, liked to watch his veins pop, his body tense, his knuckles white where they gripped near bruising onto his body.

George head tossed back and he arched as he let out a ‘Yes!’. His neck stretched long and pale and his body showed every delicate curve of lean muscle as he was happily destroyed.

“Youre so fucking fine, babe,” Ronnie only slowed a moment so he could shift, so he could lean over George and find his lips for a kiss.

George kissed him back and then cracked his eyes to meet his gaze. He absorbed it all. Every bit of attention. Every praising word. His arms looped around Ronnie’s neck to hold them together even closer.

“And you feel so fucking good..” Ronnie groaned as the angle shifted.

And George clenched again.

It was the beginning of the end. They clung together, Ronnie now gripped on to George’s hips, thrust deeper and harder and faster until they were reduced to grunting and a huffing and crying out with every body shift. George had to brace one arm above his head, pressed to the headboard to keep from being pushed away. He was starting to tremble, his cock painful between their bodies as it remain untouched. He’d wait, always wait, until the very last moment, until he could try and get them to come together.

“Ron-” George was barely present by the end. He was nothing but sparking heat, tension and movement, and every time he opened his eyes there was Ronnie, watching him, fucking him, all thick muscle and consuming eyes, filling his vision - his body - his world - and it was all he wanted to see. He could feel the other’s hips begin to stutter, feel his hands grip a bit tighter.

“Ron- _please_. I want to -” Yes, he pleaded. He whined. He begged. He needed to.

Ronnie kissed him one more time and it was like fire and George’s trapped cock spasmed desperately.

“You mine?” Ronnie growled.

“Yes,” George stared into his eyes desperately, “Always.”

“Only mine?”

His hips drove deeper, slower, but with a breathtaking force behind them. George saw white and his brain blanked out in an uncontrollable explosion of sparks.

“Ye- _yes_!”

They kissed again, quicker, and Box once more straightened out and gripped George’s hips. He withdrew almost fully, almost all the way to the crown, and the gaping emptiness made George actually whimper.

And then he drove into him again, deep, strong, and it wasn’t slow anymore. Once and then twice and then George cried out in desperation.

“Go on baby,” Box panted, “Come for me.”

And the next few moments were just pure unadulterated fucking. They both moved in well practiced tandem and It was pure _sex_ \- groaning and growling, panting each other’s names, the smack of flesh on flesh, the rattle of the headboard, and George finally took himself in hand with a furious desperation. It didn’t take much of Ronnie watching George, trapped between his hips and his own hand, before he was groaning and shivering and slamming himself deep with a final thrust. George cried out and sped himself along until he was also arching from the bed and spurting across his own belly and each of them trembled and shuddered as they rode their pleasure out, and then there was a deep silence until they went still and finally - finally - sagged down into one another.

Ronnie slipped himself free as he slumped down beside George and after a few long minutes of recovery he pulled the discarded bedsheet from the floor and passed it over them to George so he could lazily clean himself up.

By the time their heart rates had normalized, Box had rolled onto his back and their now-sullied sheet was kicked back to the floor and replaced with a light blanket that had been within reach. George had laid his head on Ronnie’s chest to listen to the reassuring thud of his heartbeat and drum his fingers to the tempo. He was fading a bit, heavy lidded, as Box’s fingers ran through his hair.

“I was just kidding before,” George said softly, “You know… til death do us part and all?”

Ronnie made an affirmative noise.

“Like _I’m_ ready to get married? Thats-” He snorted. “Besides, you want to keep all this right here? You gotta put a ring on it.”

Box snorted, “Diamonds for my George?”

George rolled onto his back and Box’s arms shifted. He couldn’t see what he was doing with them but it hardly mattered, “Oh yeah. You gotta bling me out babe. I’m very high maintenance.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ronnie said.

He was pinched and it made him chuckle.

“Gimme your hand,” One of Ronnie’s hands extended into George’s view.

George rolled a bit, curious, and when he stretched out his wrist he was caught by it. Ronnie fiddled a moment and when he finished George found he’d been affixed with something.

It wasn’t a ring. It was Ronnie’s bracelet, the one he’d never seen come off. Dangly and silver and heavier than he realized it was. It was just a little too big for his hand but it didn’t fall off. It just hung off of his thin wrist and glinted in the light and George blinked with wide eyes.

“Not a ring but-” Box smirked, “-you’re not ready for that anyway. Yeah?”

George felt something well up inside and choke him. He shouldn’t be so emotional about a stupid bracelet but it felt huge to him. Felt huge for Ronnie too. It was a gesture, a really sweet one, and fucking cheesy and somehow that made it perfect.

“Yeah,” George said with a soppy breath before he lunged and pinned Ron with a kiss. Deep and grateful and full of love.

It was Ronnie who was grinning when they broke apart, pleased his gesture had gotten such a rousing reception. He hadn’t quite rallied his energy back yet though and looked rather sleepy as much as he looked pleased.

George would have mocked him for his age but right now he was finding it adorable.

“What’ll you wear?” George asked, “I’m not sure I can get used to you not wearing one.”

“I’ll get another one.”

“No!” George interrupted. He settled back down, set his head on Ronnie’s chest again, and moved his wrist into view so he could stare at the silver links and turn them in the light, “Let me get it.”

Box had a smile in his voice, “If that’s what you want.”

_Whatever you want._

George grinned and turned his cheek to kiss the warm skin by his mouth, “ _I do._ ”


End file.
